A Drive in the Country
by iviscrit
Summary: Oneshot. "Why did he want to go back to those days now, when she wanted him instead? Was it because she was officially something he could not have?" Tom and Minerva go for a drive. Because I can. R&R please!


A/N: Hey kids! It's been three weeks since I've been on , and I apologize for the absence. But I've been plagued with writer's block for "If He'd Gotten the Job," and I've been extremely busy and behind on other writer projects that -gasp!- take precedence over fan fiction. BUT I'm back with this oneshot AND an update for the chaptered fic. So hope you guys like it. :)

* * *

><p>The small whisper of atoms rearranging themselves into the shape of a man went unnoticed in the bright Caithness countryside. A tall dark haired young man started towards the cheery house at the top of the gently sloping hill, a smile breaking over his face when he saw a woman leave the house through the front door, talking to someone inside, and wave to him. He hurried up the path and was at the door in moments, taking her roughened hand and kissing it in greeting.<p>

"What, no gloves?" he asked her. "Really, Minerva, I expected better of you."

"Which self-respecting quidditch player wears gloves all the time? Soft hands can't handle a broom." Minerva pulled him towards the doorway. "Mother, this is Tom, I've told you about him. Tom, this is my mother."

Tom extended a hand. "Delighted to meet you, Mrs. McGonagall."

The lady took his hand, shaking it firmly, and turned to her daughter. "You didn't tell me he was from London, dear." To Tom, she said, "I'm pleased to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you. And yes, a bit of it was positive."

Minerva laughed. "Don't tease him, Mum. He doesn't take it well."

"Be back soon," Isobel McGonagall called as the two set off down the slope.

"What's on the agenda?" Minerva asked, steering Tom in a different direction from where he came.

"I don't have anything particular in mind," he said. "Where are we going? If we disapparate from here we'll be in full view of all the muggles."

"Oh," she said, smiling slyly, "we won't be disapparating."

"Even if we're using a portkey, you picked a bad place to leave from," Tom pointed out.

"We're not using a portkey either."

Tom frowned. "Flying?"

"Getting warmer." At last they stopped in front of a small black car. "We're driving."

"Ah." He held the passenger door open for her. "Muggle transportation."

"Mmmhmm." She ignored the open door, going around the front of the car and getting in the driver's seat. "You're not driving, I am."

Tom raised his eyebrows once and got in. "If you insist. Where to?"

"Anywhere but here," Minerva muttered, and a steely edge entered her voice as she stepped on the gas. This took him by surprise.

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy, you've graduated, you're looking into work at the Ministry...you get to come home to magical parents..."

"Parent," she corrected. "And not exactly. My mother is getting under my skin."

Tom felt at a loss for what to do. "Er... do you want to talk about it? That's what I'm supposed to say, isn't it?"

Minerva snorted. "Sure, Tom. Sure. But yes, I do want to talk about it -or rather rant about it. Oh, she makes me so angry sometimes."

He waited patiently for her to resume speaking. "Watch your speed, Minerva."

"Sorry. Now, where was I? I hadn't even begun to explain, had I?"

"No. Planning on doing that anytime soon?" He kept his voice dry.

"Sorry again. Well, the long and short of it is I have been offered a job at the Ministry in London. At the same time, Dougal has asked me to marry him, and Mother thinks I'd be better off staying home and marrying Dougal. There are just two issues with this. First off, she doesn't approve of me living alone in London to take a job with the Ministry, never mind that I'm eighteen, and secondly, she doesn't understand that were I to marry Dougal, I'd have to sacrifice my entire magical life -except with my family." She blew a piece of hair up out of her eyes crossly. "Now that I've spelled it all out for you it doesn't seem like such a big deal, does it?"

Tom reached over and tucked the strand behind her ear. "No, it sounds bad enough, but nothing terrible." His voice became sharp. "Who is Dougal?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you about him? Dougal McGregor. His family owns the farm next door." She smiled, missing his tone, as if the insipid name brought fond thoughts to mind.

"I see. Do you want to marry him?"

"Well, I love him. But at the same time, I can't give my life up for a man. My career and my magic comes first." Her eyes hardened and her grip on the wheel tightened. "I've seen the relationship between my parents change once Father found out Mum is a witch. Nothing went wrong, per se, but nothing was quite like how it was." She shook her head. "It just won't work."

Tom thought carefully. '_I love him_.' She said it so sincerely, so casually. She couldn't possibly be serious, could she? "Why do you love him?"

"Oh, you know. I don't want to sound like a silly romance novel," Minerva said, but to look at, the description of a girl describing her amours from one such novel would have fit her perfectly. Her eyes shone, a sweet smile spread across her face, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. "I love him," she said again. "But I will get over it. I have to, and I will, in time, though it will be difficult. I can't marry him."

"You're distracted, watch where you're going," Tom said in a level voice as they very nearly missed another car. "If you can't talk and drive, I'll take over for you."

"Have I upset you?" Minerva asked, quickly glancing at him. "What's the matter?"

"Well, I'm fearful for my life with you driving, for starters. And I would like to meet this Dougal." Tom forced himself to keep his voice light. It wasn't as if his jealousy was warranted anyway. He had been the one to establish a strictly platonic relationship with her, even though he suspected -later confirmed by her in a laughter-ridden admission by Minerva- she had harbored feelings for him. Even so, she had 'gotten over it,' just as she said she would with Dougal McGregor. Why did he want to go back to those days now, when she wanted him instead? Was it because she was officially something he could not have?

"I'll introduce you later today," Minerva said. "Say, I was wondering. Know of any places in London that will be available for me? I'll need to rent a flat once I begin work at the Ministry." She narrowly missed another car, and Tom tensed in his seat. Clearly, she was still upset and doing a poor job of covering it up.

"Watch where you're going," he repeated, grabbing the wheel and correcting the car's direction at the last minute. "You're going to get us killed."

"Ah yes, and that would be a pity, you 'don't have time for death,' isn't that right?" Minerva bit her lip, serious again. "Tom, what do you think I should do?"

"Well, for starters you should do everything in your power to not crash, because at this rate we will, and we can't have that, because you're right, I can't die."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Tom, please. What do you think I should do?"

"Do you want my selfish answer, or my unbiased one?" It started to rain, and Minerva winced as the car skidded on the slippery road.

"Selfish...?" Minerva said, confused. "Damn it!" she cried as the car swerved again. "You're right, I can't multitask."

"Pull over," he ordered, his hand shooting out to steady the wheel for her again as they lurched toward oncoming traffic. Without another word she obeyed, pulling into the parking lot of a quiet ice cream parlor. "Now," he said, turning her towards him, her shoulders in his hands, "do you really want to know what I think?"

"Sure," she said, unnerved by his sudden seriousness. "By the way, I promise I don't usually drive like this. This is officially the worst outing we've had in a while."

"Don't change the subject, Minerva." He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand before continuing. "I think you should go to London."

"Exactly!" she burst out. "My mother puts no importance on me getting a career, furthering my education...she still thinks we're in the twenties, and women shouldn't have to work outside the home, she's not progressive-"

"I want you to go to London so you'll be near me."

"What?" she said, eyes widening, unsure if he was serious. "Tom, what are you trying to say?"

"I don't need to meet Dougal to know he isn't good enough for you."

"Don't say that about him," Minerva said, hurt. "If this is because he's a muggle-"

"You said yourself it won't work _because_ he's a muggle." Tom pointed out.

She blushed. "Yes, but... that just slipped out. Why should you care about whether or not he's 'good enough' for me?"

"You're the one that asked for the biased reason. The unbiased answer is the same, but with your rationale," he said. "And even then, you're welcome to visit me as often as you like."

Minerva sighed. "You know I never entirely gave up on you."

This was a surprise. "You didn't?"

"No, I didn't. At least, not until last year, when you got so fixated on your stupid Death Eaters." She took his left arm and bared his wrist. "Why you would do that to yourself I'll never know," she murmured, tracing the faint white outline of the Dark Mark on his tensed skin.

"Necessity," he replied, still stuck on her latest confession. "And what do you see in Dougal that you don't see in me?"

"It shouldn't bother you," Minerva said softly. "You made it clear I'm just a good friend, one you're willing to share the secrets of your research with. I still haven't told anyone that I know you killed Myrtle-"

"How do you-"

"Tom, when in all our five years have you come to me for comfort?" He couldn't answer. "The night she was said to have died. I remember the way you looked, and I remember how you tried to contain what you were feeling. That was the first and last time. I can put two and two together."

_It wasn't from killing her, it was from making the horcrux_, he wanted to say, but he restrained himself. "And you didn't turn me in..."

"I told you, I never gave up on you. I was stupid. I figured it was an accident, that things in the chamber had gotten out of hand..." She shook her head. "I should have known."

How much did she know? he wondered in a panic. He had to keep her close now; letting her go was too dangerous. And, though he hated to admit it to himself, the fact that she knew about his doings and did nothing to stop him meant she could be converted to the cause once he graduated, and of course, it made him all the more jealous of Dougal for being the object of her affection. "I don't deserve you, Minerva."

She laughed softly. "No, you don't."

"But you should work for the Ministry. You're brilliant, you're the top of your graduating class, you'll do really well there." He looked at her earnestly. "Don't pass it up."

She nodded, resolute. "How will I tell Dougal..." she said, more to herself than to him.

"He'll move on. He'll get over it."

"Yes." She did not sound so sure.

"So will I," he couldn't resist adding softly. "In good time."

"I'm not worried about you, you'll have an easy enough time of it."

He frowned. "I doubt that. You'll visit, won't you?"

"I'll try. But you'll only be my second priority, I hope you understand."

"I do."

She looked at him pleadingly. "I would be much more easily persuaded by anything you're thinking of saying if you promise to drop your work in the dark arts."

"You know I can't."

"You can." She looked out the window. "We should head back."

"I'll drive."

"Fine." She leaned her head on his shoulder as they drove back, sky darkened by nightfall and rain. "I ruined this outing, and this is the last time you'll see me."

"This isn't the last time."

"Tom, I wanted everything to be perfect because if you're going to seriously experiment with the dark arts, I can't- I _won't_ be seeing you. And I know you won't quit so this will be the last time."

Tom relaxed his grip on the wheel. "You're wrong, Minerva."

"Oh?"

"I'll see you in London."

"I said I won't be visiting."

"I know. I'll be visiting you." She sat beside him, speechless. "Do you object?"

She surprised him by doing something she'd never done before: she kissed his cheek. The car swerved. "Don't crash my car, Tom. I'll see you in London."

"Don't give up on me, Minerva."

"I already did. You keep forgetting about Dougal-"

"Don't blame me for it."

"-_but_ now it's your turn to not give up on me. I just need time."

"Minerva," he said, turning to look at her as he pulled up to her house, "believe me, I have nothing but time."

"Ah yes, Lord Voldemort and his flight of death." She smiled. "You have multiple lifetimes ahead. Good luck with that."

"Don't forget it." She started to speak, and he didn't know what possessed him to lean across and kiss her on the mouth, his fingers caressing her cheek. "I mean that," he whispered, pulling away.

"Tom," she said softly, her eyes falling shut as he turned his attention to her jawline, "what are you doing?" Dimly she registered the presence of another person in her peripheral vision off in the distance.

"Never mind, Minerva...don't you have to introduce me to someone?"

FIN

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you guys liked it. :) This was so delicious to write. I have a really embarrassing confession to make... when I'm driving and nervous, I have a conversation with myself, and the two people that talk to one another are quite similar to Tom and Minerva. Yep. So now you know that I'm completely insane. **

**Anyway, stay tuned for the impending sequel: "Of Marriage Fails and Cotton Tails." Not kidding.**

**Leave me a review, darlings! **


End file.
